Bite Me
by Chapin CSI
Summary: Humor, drama, & fantasy. Grissom's life through the eyes of his pet. There's laughter and there's drama as Gil struggles to keep it together before and after Mea Culpa. GSR towards the end. Complete
1. Bite Me drama

BITE ME

Drama.

No pairing, although there's a brief mention of GS UST

After a hard night's work, what is Grissom's only consolation?

I published this story a while ago, but after Mea Culpa it's become relevant. I did a little revision of the text and added part two.

* * *

I've been Grissom's pal for years. Yeah, believe it or not, he has a friend. Me. 

I've been observing him lately… and I think he's reaching a breaking point.

For instance, the shift has barely started and he's already showing signs of weariness. He's sitting behind his desk, facing two of his colleagues: Nick Stokes (who's had the nerve to say, 'I'm not you, Grissom') and Sara Sidle, (who said, 'I wish I were like you; I wish I didn't feel anything').

(As you can see, I never forget when someone hurts Grissom. I'm vindictive, so you better be careful…)

Nick and Sara are standing apart and the tension between them is almost palpable.

"So, Nick-" Grissom says and Nick continues his explanation right away.

"I told the victim's father that his son had been killed during the robbery-"

"Actually," interrupts Sara, "what you told him was that his son had been killed while trying to stop the perps from escaping -"

"He was killed by the perps as he came out of the store, Sara, it's a fair assumption."

"Nick, I've told you not to assume-" Grissom says tiredly.

"Hey, Grissom you weren't there." He interrupts, "You didn't see the pain in this guy's eyes. His son was dead, and the cops weren't giving him any information… All I did was to lessen his pain." He glances at Sara, "I gave him a little sympathy, because we're not machines processing data. We're human beings…"

"But you gave away information about the case-"

These two grown people are acting like bickering siblings and Grissom watches and listens until he finally interrupts and asks them to please leave and process the evidence as soon as possible.

Grissom sighs after they leave.

Before he can read the first report, Catherine Willows (who said 'You've turned into a lousy leader, Grissom') came in and told him that she wouldn't hand her current case, a big robbery at the Rampart, to Warrick.

"Catherine, there's a conflict of interests here. You're related to the casino's owner-"

She leans on his desk.

"Are you questioning my ethics, Grissom?"

"I'm trying to be practical, Catherine. If this case goes to court, your evidence might be put into question simply because you're his daughter."

"Grissom," She says and she leans on his desk, "You should know that the possibility of Sam worrying over a simple robbery is remote."

"It's not a simple robbery, Catherine-"

"Grissom," she softens her tone, "Look; I really want to show him that I'll always do my job regardless of who he is."

He relents.

"All right, do it." He says, and she turns. "Just please document everything-" he adds, and that makes her stop.

"I know how to do my job, Grissom." She says curtly and leaves.

Grissom sighs… and I think I know what he's thinking of.

Barely a minute later, Eckley comes in and sits on a corner of Grissom's desk.

"Willows was giving you a peep show again, huh?"

Grissom continues reading.

"She sure grabs one's attention with those skimpy tops of hers." Eckley muses aloud, "She gets close to a guy, opens her mouth but doesn't say anything, shows off her tits and waits … and if a guy so much as peeks, she turns into Loretta Bobbitt-"

"Conrad?" Grissom interrupts, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually, no. But I can do something for you. In about ten minutes there'll be a press conference held by Donny Charles' father-"

"Donny Charles, the kid who got killed during a robbery-"

"Yes. As you know, I'm friendly with some members of the press," he pauses, "Right? Well, according to my sources, Mr. Charles is going to praise CSI for their human approach and for their offer to solve the case in twenty four hours. Which might sound like a nice advertisement, but it's not. The day shift doesn't want to be included, thank you very much."

"Damn." Mutters Grissom, reaching for his phone.

"What is it with Stokes, Gil? Can't he keep his mouth shut?"

"I'll talk to the DA-" Grissom says calmly, "Thanks for the tip, Conrad"

Eckley leaves, and Grissom spends the next ten minutes kissing some asses in order to stop the conference…

And I know what Grissom is thinking of.

Later, Greg enters the office.

"Here are the results you asked for, boss." he says, waving a sheet of paper, "Donny Charles definitely was one of the assailants. The blood on his knuckles proves that he hit Mr. Jones, the store owner. Mr. Jones fought back and managed to take off Donny's ski mask; the other perps panicked and shot them both. And before you ask, I'm not _assuming_," he adds, "Everything was recorded by the security camera. Unfortunately for them, but luckily for us. Archie will bring you his report-"

"Uh, huh. Thanks, Greg."

"Nick couldn't believe it." Greg said, shaking his head, "But Archie did a great job with that security tape-"

"All right, Greg." Grissom interrupts. "By the way," he glares, "the Sheriff called me to complain; he says he caught you reading comic books."

"Jeeze, Grissom, what's his problem? They are harmless-"

"Get them out of the lab."

"But Grissom-"

"Out, Greg. Tonight." He said firmly. "Ok?"

"Yes, Sir." he says finally and turns to leave, only to meet Nick by the door.

Nick waits until Greg's out of sight to talk.

"Grissom, I'm sorry, man-"

"Nick, you shouldn't have talked to anybody," he interrupts, "You hadn't even looked into the evidence-"

"I know, but-"

"Mr. Charles' lawyer says he might sue CSI for the pain and suffering we've caused to his client-"

"I just wanted to give him some consolation. I just can't be like you, man."

"Nick," he says, with supreme patience, "I don't care if you're like me or not. But right now, being like you might cost us a million dollars."

"I'm sorry," Nick gulps, "I'm just…"

And he goes on with the apologies, but Grissom has already blocked him out. He's just thinking… thinking…and glancing at me.

He's so concentrated on his task that he doesn't realize Sara has entered his office until she's standing in front of him. He almost jumps. No wonder; someone should tell her that black is not her color.

"…And yet you gave him the promotion." She says quietly.

Grissom puts his pen down and removes his glasses.

"Yes, I did."

"Are you happy?" she asks quietly.

"I never aspire to happiness, Sara." He says, "Life is less disappointing that way."

She looks hurt.

"_I _have aspired to happiness," she whispers, "_I_ would have shared it with you."

And, as always, Grissom doesn't react the way she hopes.

She mutters a 'see you around' and leaves… and he watches her go. Wistfully. As always.

What the hell has happened to these two? They used to have the greatest conversations; witty, flirty, sweet-

I look at Grissom and realize that I don't know what he's thinking of.

Well, the shift is about to end, and there comes Ms. Willows. She's pissed. Maybe it's the tight pants she's poured into. I don't think anyone would be comfortable in them.

"Sam Braun was present during my investigation" she states. "I'm telling you first, so you don't get the news from the cops."

"You didn't remove him from the scene?" Grissom can't help it; he's truly amazed.

"He wanted to talk about Lindsay-"

"Because he 'cares' about her, Catherine?" he challenged, "Or because he wanted to make sure that your evidence gets thrown out of court?"

She scoffs.

"You know Grissom, sometimes I'd like to be like you; you sit there behind your big desk, worrying only about ant farms and worms, while the rest of us have to deal with real life. Real life, Grissom; messy and imperfect. You can shut out people in your life, but I can't. He's my father-"

Grissom's expression is blank, but I know him; he's hurt and pissed by her words. He simply looks at her (in the eye, always; he's not Eckley).

"Catherine, is the case safe?" he interrupts her at last.

"Yes, it is."

"Fine. Keep me posted then."

When she leaves, he looks in my direction, but before he can say anything, he gets a phone call. He listens for a moment

"Yes Jonathan, she's just told me-" he listens for a moment; (I'm guessing it's Jonathan Silver, the DA. "I will personally vouch for any of my colleagues' honesty, Jonathan. If she says she didn't let Mr. Braun come near the evidence that she collected-" he pauses again, since he was rudely interrupted by the DA. He closes his eyes and sighs, "Why can't we use that evidence-?" but he knows the answer. Braun's conversation with Catherine tainted it. "I allowed her to go to the Rampart." He says, "It was my decision, Jonathan." He listens for a moment, "Yes. I understand." He finishes and then he quietly puts the phone down.

He looks at me.

"Hey." He says, and he gets up.

He isn't managing his stress the way he used to and it worries me. Another year like this will kill this sensitive man, unless he learns how to manage this bunch of people he loves as the family he's never had.

He approaches me and reaches into my crystal bowl.

I know what he's going to say; he's been thinking about it all night.

"Hey," he says, gently petting me, "If things around here get ever too difficult, can I count on you to put an end to my misery?"

I'd never do that. But I pat his hand reassuringly with my front limbs.

He smiles and relaxes.

"Nice Arachnid" he says fondly.

THE END

Thank you for reviewing… coming up: the aftermath of Mea Culpa


	2. Bite me part two drama

BITE ME

Part two

Drama, fantasy.

Spoiler: Mea culpa

A spider who appreciates Shakespeare? Hey, when you're Grissom's pet, anything's possible.

The story's told from the spider's point of view.

* * *

Something terrible happened today. We lost our home.

I didn't understand at first. When Grissom started taking down all his diplomas and putting them in boxes, I thought he was going to do something about the color on the walls. But when he emptied his desk and his filing cabinets, I knew something else was happening.

He was collecting the jars on the far end of his office, when his friend Jim came.

"Sorry, pal." Brass said

"You warned me." Grissom said simply.

"I didn't think he'd go this far. Taking your office to give it to the day shift supervisor seems petty."

"Ah, that's ok." Grissom shook his head, "I'll get used to the smaller one."

Brass sat on the only empty chair available.

"You're taking it far too calmly, Grissom."

Grissom paused.

"Jim, I don't mind paying for my sins."

Brass scoffed,

"What sins?"

"Vanity? Arrogance, at the very least." Grissom admitted, "I never missed a chance to put him down or to point out his shortcomings as a scientist-"

"Eckley deserved it." Brass muttered.

"Yeah, but I forgot my own shortcomings, Jim." He said softly, "I just thought that solving cases was enough and it wasn't. And now others are paying for it." He took a deep breath, "I told Sara and Greg to request a reassignment-"

"What?" Brass frowned, "Why?"

"They'll be better off without me, Jim." He smiled faintly, "I'm a bit smarter now, and I've realized that Eckley's not finished yet. He'll make matters difficult for me and for anyone who works with me -He won't authorize overtime, he won't authorize requests for new equipment-"

"Well, then you should think of your own skin, too." Jim said, rising from his seat, "I mean, what are you going to do? Quit?"

"I've been thinking about it." Grissom nodded. "The truth is…I never learned to deal with this kind of situation. When I was a kid I got out of fights by using _words_. That won't work now. What am I going to do, fight Eckley to death?"

Jim chuckled.

"Maybe that could work." He said, and then he got serious. "Just don't do anything hasty. Look; Eckley maybe powerful right now, but if the Department suffers because of his decisions –and it will- there'll be hell to pay. Give it a little time and keep me posted, ok?"

Grissom nodded and continued packing.

I can't believe he's talking of quitting. This is our home.

But then I realize that his family has been taken away from him.

Everybody turned to watch as Grissom carried my crystal bowl along with a few other belongings to his new, smaller office. I was with him as Hodges leant out of his lab and waved.

"Bye, boss." He said, only to do a double take, "Oh, wait. Sorry. Ex-boss, I mean."

_Ah, Hodges._ _How I would love to do a little tap dance all over your face…_

Greg and Sara came to help Grissom. They tried to make everything fit, but it was a losing battle. The office was just too small.

"I guess I'll have to take home some of these boxes," Grissom said after a moment.

"I'll take them to your car." Greg offered.

Greg left and Sara looked around.

"You brought most of your equipment," she smiled, "Eckley will be pissed off."

"All the equipment is in my name." Grissom explained, "I got gifts from factories all the time."

"You took this lab from the dark ages onto the XXI century," Sara said softly.

Grissom looked down, and for a moment they were both silent.

"I won't request any reassignment, Grissom." She said.

"Sara-"

"I'm not leaving you, and Greg isn't either. We want to stay with you. To the end." She turned and put some jars in a box. "I'll take these to your car."

Grissom watched her go. He smiled faintly.

Later, while Grissom was out on a case Eckley entered the office and looked around. He smiled when he noticed the boxes on the floor. He frowned when he saw the equipment gleaming in a corner of the office. He scoffed when he saw the diplomas on the wall-

The bald devil was really enjoying himself, touching a book here, a jar there.

I simply stared at him. I stared and stared…

Eckley glanced at me. He glanced away, and then he glanced back.

I stared at him and willed him to come close…

_Come heeeeere, boy. Come on… come on…_

And he did.

Whoa. Could this be so easy?

_Come on, Eckley… come on…_

Eckley looked at me through the glass and I stared back, willing him to put his hand inside the bowl.

_Touch me... Tooouch me-_

I'm sure he was going to reach in, when he was interrupted.

"Eckley?"

_Noooooo! Grissom, you returned too early!!_

"Hey, Gil." Eckley said, blinking as if he had been asleep, "I dropped by to see how you were doing in your new office."

"I'm fine." Grissom said.

Eckley leant on Grissom's desk.

"No hard feelings, right Gil?"

"Right." Grissom said, picking up a report from his desk.

Eckley seemed put off by Grissom's calm attitude.

"Good." He approved, "Because I need a team that works for a common goal, Grissom. I expect your people will behave accordingly-"

"My people will always do their job, Conrad." Grissom said, sitting down, "_That'_s what we're paid for. There's just not enough money in the world to make us kiss anybody's ass -"

"Gil, Gil, Gil." Eckley shook his head, "You disappoint me. I thought you'd learned your lesson."

Grissom looked up.

"_Lesson?_" he scoffed, "You know, Conrad," he said slowly, "sometimes you remind me of high school; there was always some guy who was too wimpy to hang out with the jocks and just too _dumb_ to hang out with the science geeks. All that was left for him was to grovel-"

Eckley reddened, but he didn't lose the smile.

"Yet look how far I have come-" he said.

"Conrad." Grissom said coldly, "Stop this bullshit. You have a problem with _me_, not with them; deal with me, then. Don't destroy other people's lives-"

"It's all your doing, Gil." Eckley said, pulling off the desk, "Think about it."

Eckley was reaching the door, when Grissom spoke again.

"All this just because I didn't write a speech for you, Conrad?"

"Of course not." Eckley said with a smile. "But now you wish you did, don't you?"

* * *

A month later we're at one place I've never been before, although Grissom seems very familiar with it. It's bigger than his two offices put together, so maybe things are improving.

It seems he wants to be alone today; the phone rang for a while, but he ignored it; then the answering machine picked up a few messages until he turned it off.

The messages told me something that I knew nothing about.

BRASS: _Hey, Gil? I heard the judge dismissed your case. If you want to talk, call me._

CATHERINE: _Gil? Eckley's been making my life hell. How am I supposed to solve cases if he assigns me the least-qualified personnel? By the way, I heard about your case. I guess I'm not the only one having troubles, huh. See ya._

SARA: _Grissom, are you ok? Greg says you took the night off. Do you need anything? Call me, ok?_

WARRICK: _Hey, Griss? Just thought I'd give you a call. Someone told me you were held in contempt of the court, and that the judge retaliated by throwing your case out. Man, what were you thinking? They tell me the Judge was blatantly siding with the defense, but come on, Griss? You never lost it before. Give me a call if you need to talk._

DOC ROBBINS: _Gil, I thought I'd remind you of something you told me when I was having a rough patch in my marriage. 'The job isn't all you have.' Remember? I hope you do. It applies to all of us._

Grissom had been lying on a couch while he listened to all this. Judging by his appearance, he had one hell of a migraine.

After that last message, he said something I barely caught.

"All I have is my reputation." he said quietly.

After a while, he rose from the couch. He turned off the answering machine and turned on his CD player, something else he brought from his office. For weeks we had been listening to some plays; Shakespeare mostly. The latest was Anthony and Cleopatra, and we hadn't had a chance to finishit.

I huddled in a corner of my bowl and listened as Anthony mopped about Cleopatra and planned his own death.

Grissom didn't stay idle while listening to the recording; he brought a pile of papers and a paper shredder and sat down to work. He shredded papers methodically; barely looking at contents. That was so odd; he rarely shredded anything-

And suddenly he stopped. He closed his eyes and began taking deep breaths.

He was hurting, and I knew very well that it wasn't because of the migraine.

I knew this moment would come. Everybody thought that he was pissed off because he lost his office and his parking space, but I knew that it was the loss of his family that he regretted the most. It is the one loss he doesn't know how to deal with.

When I glanced at him again, I realized that he was entranced by Shakespeare's words. I paid attention again. Apparently, Mark Anthony wanted to die, but he needed his former slave's help. Anthony wanted Eros to kill him. Grissom started mouthing the words along with the actor.

Anthony:

Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.

Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn

Most useful for thy country.

Grissom glanced at me, and suddenly I knew what he was thinking.

I turned away; I didn't want to look at him, I didn't want to see him come-

I felt his fingers, prodding at me. I tried to ignore him, but it was difficult; he really wanted to provoke a response from me. Soon I wouldn't be able to help myself-

_Please, buddy, don't make me._ I prayed,_ You don't know the damage I can do. You think you know, but you don't, believe me. If I do this, you'll be in excruciating pain; you'll get cramps; your limbs will swell, and suddenly you won't be able to breathe- I don't want you to go through all this_-

I escaped by crawling up his arm, and he froze for an instant. When he realized that I had simply taken refuge under his collar, he impatiently brushed me off. I fell on the little table, among his papers, I looked around for a place to hide, and once again I felt him draw near.

Anthony: 

… Do it at once;

Or thy precedent services are all but accidents unpurposed.

Draw, and come.

Grissom's fingers were about to touch me-

Now, Eros.

I ran to the paper shredder. It wasn't on, but I knew that it could do a lot of damage if I crawled into the blades; they looked like a row of ferocious teeth… But jumping in wasbetter than doing what he wanted me to.

Eros:

Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow

Of Antony's death.

_Eros killed himself rather than hurting his master. _

I stood by the abyss, willing to jump in if he came any closer.

But Grissom didn't. He seemed to understand my intentions, because he took a step back. I crawled back an inch. When Grissom took another step back, I crawled away from the blades, but not too far, just in case. Grissom stood there looking at me for a long time. I guess he couldn't believe what had just happened, but after a moment he simply took a deep breath and walked away.I watched as he stood in the middle of the room.

"What am I doing." He whispered.

Over and over.

* * *

The End… Because I have no idea what Grissom is going to do. 


	3. Bite me part three drama, romance

BITE ME

Part three

GSR implied.

G, a little fantasy…

Post "Nesting Dolls": Grissom's pet notices how much he has changed in one week.

* * *

He doesn't look at me anymore. Not the way he used to.

Oh, he feeds me and he pats my head now and then, but it's not the same.

He's busy, I know. He's been pulling double shifts and trying to make up for Sara Sidle 's absence; he also has to supervise Greg Sanders, and -even though she doesn't need supervision- he also keeps an eye on Sophia what's-her-name. He doesn't trust her.

Good for him. I don't trust her either. But then I don't trust anyone.

But I digress. As I was saying, he hasn't looked at me in despair like he used to.

I should be happy, right? I mean, he's my favorite human and if he's happy I should be happy too…

But I'm not. I'm afraid he-

There, I've said it: I'm afraid that one of these days he'll decide he doesn't need me anymore.

When did things begin to change? Well, I think it was last Thursday, when Greg entered his office and started asking questions…

(flashback:)

"So?" The young man asked, "What happened? What did Eckley say? Did he insist that you fire Sara?"

"Relax, Greg." Grissom said calmly, "Sara's job is safe." He sat behind his desk and took a deep breath. "For now."

"Thank God!" Greg sighed noisily, flopping down on a chair, "For a while I thought we were going to lose her!"

"We will if she's not careful, Greg," Grissom said, unable to share Greg's enthusiasm.

Greg hesitated.

"I still don't understand what happened, Grissom. I mean, we all know how Sara is; she just speaks her mind." He shrugged, "I guess not everyone can take it."

"Things have changed, Greg." Grissom said quietly, "We all need to accept that. Sara will need our support when she comes back."

"You can count on me, boss." Greg said reassuringly and Grissom smiled.

Greg's optimism is so contagious.

Grissom looked at the reports on his desk.

"We'll have to cover up for Sara for a full week, Greg-"

"I know." Greg interrupted, sitting up straighter in his seat. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, since Sophia likes to work alone, you and me we'll be teaming up on most of the cases."

"Ok" Greg said, as if he were mentally taking notes.

"That means pulling double shifts-"

"Ok" he nodded, "I'll bring a pound of blue Hawaiian to help us along."

"There'll be no nights off, Greg. Sorry."

"That's ok." He nodded again, "Anything else?"

Grissom smiled.

"Yes." He nodded solemnly, "Go home and take a nap. You're still off-shift."

"A nap." Greg repeated, "Right away, boss." Greg went to the door, but before he reached it he turned, "Hey, Grissom?" he said, "Thanks. You know, for standing up for Sara." He smiled, "It just wouldn't be the same without her."

"No." Grissom agreed.

After Greg left, Grissom took a deep breath and leant back in his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment.

I was waiting for him to open his eyes and look in my direction, when someone knocked on the door.

Catherine Willows.

"May I come in?" she asked.

Grissom opened his eyes.

"Sure."

She approached his desk but didn't take a seat.

"Gil, I'll go straight to the point-"

"As always."

She didn't acknowledge the interruption.

"I'm new in this game," she started, "But I think I can give you some advice: Don't make this harder than it has to be. You _don't_ want Eckley as your enemy."

"I don't want him as an enemy, Catherine," he said patiently, "But I don't want him as a friend, either." He looked at her and added, "And neither should you."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Are you trying to make feel bad for knowing how to play the game, Gil?" She challenged.

Grissom stared silently at her.

Catherine leant on his desk.

"I'm not apologizing for what happened. _Sara_ made a mistake." She said, "_She_ deserved the suspension."

"I agree." He said calmly. "I just don't believe she deserved to be fired."

"You don't?" she repeated incredulously, "She was disrespectful to Eckley; she-"

"Eckley?" he asked, truly amazed, "You're fighting _Eckley_'s battles now? I thought you were pissed off because she was disrespectful to you!"

"Oh, I am." She retorted. "And you might be angry at Eckley but he's right about Sara; she can't be trusted to work certain cases, she's-"

"_I_ trust her," he said curtly.

Catherine shook her head.

"Gil, do you now what the problem here is? You're letting your feelings affect your judgment." She paused, "_You're making it personal_."

"Am I?" He asked, wide eyed, "Well, then you should be glad; you used to accuse me of not doing that often enough."

She stared at him and then she shook her head, as if she were giving up. She turned to leave.

"Catherine?" he called out and paused until she turned, "A word of advice: If you ever need to ask Warrick or Nick what their problem is, make sure you take them into your office first. That way, they can be honest and you can save face." He paused, "It's what I always do."

He doesn't say it but it's implied, I think: _He's done it for her_. He's let her rage, he's let her criticize him –sometimes fairly, sometimes not so fairly- he's covered up for her… he's let her get away with mistakes that Eckley wouldn't have forgiven-

I guess he expected her to be more forgiving towards Sara.

"You should learn to choose your battles, Gil," she said softly, "You should think of yourself -" She said.

"I have thought of myself, Catherine." He said softly, "Actually, it's all I've done lately. I've been obsessed with how Eckley's actions have affected _me_, instead of thinking of how they affected others –you, included. Not anymore. There are people who depend on me, and I'll do anything to protect them. I'm _lucky_ to have them." He smiled, "I won't let my own indifference affect my colleagues' lives anymore. I've learned a hard lesson."

She stared at him as if she didn't recognize him… and then she left.

(Ends flashback)

So, that's what happened a few days ago. Since then he's been busy, he's hardly had more than a few hours of sleep every day…

And yet he's content.

Maybe it's because of the calls he gets now and then. When he takes those calls, whatever he hears must be special because his face just changes- his expression softens, his smile turns gentle, and his voice sounds different – throaty and seductive- even when all he says is 'Sara, hi.'

I can't help wondering if Grissom will need me now. Don't get me wrong. I don't want him to be so desperate that he asks me to bite him; it's just… He used to turn to me for comfort and now he doesn't. I don't have his attention anymore.

I'm huddling in a corner of my crystal home, staring at the wall and feeling sorry for myself-

When suddenly a plump cricket falls just an inch away from me.

Ooooh, my favorite treat!

Wait a minute… It's not my birthday! What-

I look around.

He's there, smiling warmly.

"Hey, my friend." He says, "Enjoy."

Aw, you… you wonderful human-

I love you.

The end.


	4. Bite me part four humor

Set after Unbearable

Grissom's poor spider witnesses the dinner invitation and reacts badly.

* * *

This is not good. I feel like hell.

I'm lying flat on my abdomen and Dr. Garcia is gently poking at me with tweezers, something that usually gets me mad. This time I don't even lift my head.

"She's unusually quiet." The vet mutters. "How long has she been like this?"

"Since Thursday night." Grissom answers, and I notice the concern in his voice.

"Mmmmh. Has she eaten anything in these two days?"

"Very little."

"Uh, huh." The vet nods."Thursday night you say… did anything happen on Thursday night that might have caused this?"

"No." Grissom frowns, "Not that I recall." He thinks harder, "Nothing unusual happened; things were just as they always are-" he shrugs, "Routine."

_'Nothing unusual'_ he says, '_Routine'_ he says. Ha! I can't believe it! I can't believe he doesn't see that this is all his fault!

I weakly lift a limb in his direction.

"She's moving!" the vet says.

Grissom immediately leans over.

"What's up, my friend?" he asks, tenderly touching my limb as if we were playing pattie cake.

Actually, I'm giving him the finger, but since I don't have any fingers, the gesture is merely pathetic. I give up.

You see, I'm weak. I haven't eaten much since that awful night, two days ago; I mean, I've tried to get over it, but when I think of what I _saw and heard _on Thursday night-

Oughh, Gaaaad, here I go again-

"Jesús!" the vet cries out, "I'd never seen a spider puking up!" he looks at Grissom suspiciously, "Are you sure you didn't give her something you shouldn't have?"

"I've only given her the usual food! It can't be that." he shakes his head, truly clueless about my discomfort, "She was fine until Thursday night-"

"What exactly happened that night, Dr. Grissom?"

"Well… I was giving her a pellet of food when a colleague of mine came into my office-"

"Did your colleague give her any food, or touch her at all?"

"No, no! Shedidn't. Nobody has touched her!" he says, looking at me.

Oh, Grissom, nobody has _touched_ me, but you practically _smashed _my face with that little dinner invitation scene you played right in front of me-

"So, what happened?" urges the vet, "I mean, after your colleague entered your office?"

"Nothing. My colleague said something about wanting to leave the lab, I tried to convince her not to do so, I offered to take her to dinner, and-"

Oh, Gaaad, please Grissom, don't remind me, don't-

"She's throwing up again!" Grissom says, and now he's truly scared.

"My God." The vet utters as he watches me.

"That's exactly what she did that night." Grissom says, "When I saw her puking up, I decided not to take my colleague to dinner, of course. I've been nursing this little fella ever since."

"I'm afraid I'll have to remove her from your care, Dr. Grissom." The vet says sternly, "I'll have to take every morsel of food you have here. There's definitely something wrong going on -"

You bet there is doc, but it's not what you think.

"Look, I don't care if you take everything around here for testing." Grissom says angrily, "Do anything you need to do until she gets well!"

He sounds so sincere and worried, that the vet backs off a little.

"I'm sure it's merely an empacho, Dr. Grissom." He says kindly, "You didn't say so, but I'm sure you gave her one too many crickets-"

Grissom looks truly sad as the vet secures my crystal home in a carrier.

Oh, Grissom.

If I could only explain to you-

If you could see the things that I see…

But humans can't. It's a weakness of them; when they look at one another, they see what their eyes perceive, but also what they _want_ to see, while we don't have that choice. What we see it's what people _are_. What we _see_ is a faint glow of color that surrounds a person. We can't smell it, but I guess others can. So,we see color, and depending on the person, that color is comforting and visually attractive or not.

For instance, Grissom's glow is a pale blue, very nice by the way. Sara's is a sweet violet, while Catherine's is a fiery orange- and so on, and so on.

Now, take someone like Eckley; his glow has changed over the years. It used to be a garish green, but lately it's turned into a different green, a nauseous green - the color of phlegm. Yeah, gross, isn't it?

Sophia's glow is a pale brown; nothing exactly awful about it you might think, except…

There's green on her too. Greenish smudges show on her now and then, the tell-tale signs that she's been with Eckley. They're friends.

And no friend of Eckley can ever be a true friend of Gil's, right?

I didn't mind, until Thursday night. Sophia was _covered in green_. AndGrissom couldn't see it.

She said she wanted to leave and he just fell for that lie and uttered that silly dinner invitation

I mean, can a man be this stupid? This blind?

So, I threw up. I didn't do it so he broke up the date, but I'm glad I accomplished that much.

But now the vet is taking me away, and I… I won't be here to protect him anymore.

I have to get well.

I will. I'll be back.

And when I do… beware, Sophia.

* * *

Yep, I confess. My reaction was pretty much like that of the spider's.


	5. Bite me part five humor, romance

BITE ME

Humor, romance

What horrors will the poor spider witness now?

Note: I shamelessly took chapter two from my story "The Winner takes it all" and adapted it here.

* * *

Doctor Garcia brought me back on the first week of March. 

He didn't immediately hand me back to Grissom, though. First he wanted to make sure that my human understoodhow sick I had been. According to him, my recoverywas due to the fact that I had been surrounded by _living_ creatures.

"In fact," he said, "She became highly active once she found herself surrounded by my assistants and by other spiders."

Well, yeah. As soon as I saw my surroundings I frantically tried to dig my way to freedom. I mean, it was awful! Doctor Garcia put me in a crystal bowl, one of the many that he keeps at his clinic. I was surrounded by dozens of girls who looked like me, something that would have delighted others, but not me. I was unnerved by their presence; I just couldn't relate to them. I mean, once you've lived with a human, you tend to set yourself apart. I might look like them and I might understand their language, but I don't share their interests anymore. I mean, all they talked about was feeding and mating, feeding and mating…

And don't ask me about Dr. Garcia's assistants! All I can say is that they made me crave _my_ human's company -his face, his voice, his opera tapes… and the tasty flies he picks up for me, of course.

However, once I realized that I'd get out sooner if I cooperated with Dr. Garcia, I calmed down. I ate well, I pretended to enjoy the awful music those snot-nosed kids played, and I didn't pick up any fights, not even when those brats tried to alleviate their boredom by putting me inside someone else's cage.

And, miracle of miracles, I learned to control myself whenever the word 'dinner' was uttered in my presence.

And now I was on Grissom's desk at last, and I was eagerly waiting for him to pick me up and pet me. But his attention was solely on Dr. Garcia.

"Doctor Grissom," my vet said solemnly, "I believe she's been depressed by the lonely environment you provided for her."

Oh, the look of panic on Grissom's face when he heard this was priceless! He was afraid that the doctor would take me away from him! Awwww.

He gulped before asking,

"Do you think she got sick because I kept her in my office?"

"Couldn't you keep her somewhere else, Doctor?" he asked, and then he gestured at the dead specimens that adorned Grissom's bookcases, "I believe she became sick when she started mimicking the dead creatures you've surrounded her with."

Oh, pu-leeeze! Keep your psychobabble to yourself, doc.

But to my utter surprise, Grissom nodded gravely.

"I'll put up a fish bowl-"

"What she needs is constant human presence, Dr. Grissom. I'm afraid that with you constantly gone…"

"You don't expect me to return her to the zoo, do you?" Grissom asked indignantly, "Do you remember how traumatized she was?"

Oh, yeah. That was a terrible period for me. The guy who was in charge over there was a real psycho!

"I won't take her back." Grissom said firmly, "If she needs to see people, I'll make sure she does, but under my own terms."

And that's why I'm currently living in the break room, sharing space with the few humans who dare to enter now that I'm here. Actually, they all should ignore me, since I'm not precisely in their faces- I'm on the top shelf, well away from the snacks and the fridge. If they don't want to look at me, then they shouldn't look up. But I guess they can't help it. They look up and then they make a big deal out of my innocent presence. They even wrinkle their noses, as if I smelled!

But don't think for a minute that Grissom simply put my crystal bowl up here. Oh, no. I'm actually protected by a thick sheet of unbreakable glass, and Grissom's installed a nanny cam ostensibly to monitor my progress. Actually, he put it there as a message: Whoever touches me or fiddles with my home, will be in trouble. People weren't happy with this, however, and Grissom compromised: To avoid any complaints about 'invasion of privacy,' he removed the microphone. But the camera stayed. That means he can see if anyone tries to get to me, but he can't hear what they say about me or about him.

Sample conversation:

Female Trace Technician: "That creep!"

Male Trace Technician: "Aw, the spider's not so bad."

Female Trace Technician: "I'm talking about Dr. Grissom! He's gone just too far this time! What's next, a nanny cam in the bathroom?"

Another sample:

Same Female Trace Technician: "That creep just stares at me as if I were a piece of meat!"

Same male Trace Technician: "Who, Grissom?"

Female Trace Technician: "Nah, not him. The spider. Look at it."

Hey, give me a break, girl. What else can I do? It's not like I can close my eyes, anyway!

Ah, humans. About the only human I really like to look at –apart from my Grissom- is Greg. He's got spiky hair like me.

I've seen Sophia, (and notice that I don't gag as I mention her name!) Just as I suspected, all that talk about leaving was a complete lie. And they went to dinner, by the way. Just a couple of nights ago, she made a reference to it, but since Grissom merely nodded, I'm not really worried. It was not a big deal for him and that's what matters.

But this Sophia is really unbelievable. I mean, who does she think she's fooling? She's a chameleon, that's what she is. And chameleons I know very well. She blends in; she acts tough when Brass is around, she acts all feminist-like when she talks to Sara or Catherine; and she even talks about spiders when she's with Grissom! Oh, please, can't anybody see that she's a big fraud?

* * *

Apparently, _nobody _sees that she's a big fraud.

I'll tell you all about it, as soon as I recover. Ough. I managed to keep my food down, but only because if I don't, Dr. Garcia will take me away from Grissom again. But oh, my eyes… Oh, what they've seen…

Don't these humans have any sense left?

It all started early today: I had been taking a nap when the sound of humans talking woke me up. I looked down and saw Sophia sitting at the table, holding Warrick and Nick's rapt attention. Before I could make sense of what she was saying, Catherine burst into the break room and stared at the three of them with an 'oh, shit' expression on her face.

She must have run to get here; she was disheveled and sweaty, and it took her a while to get her breath back.

"Nick?" she called out when she recovered, "Warrick?"

The guys barely nodded at her and turned their attention back to Sophia.

"So, the evidence was behind the CD boxes!" Nick said, "What made you look there?"

"Well," Sophia said, shaking her long mane, "I have to confess that I looked merely because it was a jazz collection. I love jazz."

"You do?" Warrick asked, perking up

"Oh, yes." she said dreamily. "Jazz is food for the soul."

Catherine rolled her eyes impatiently.

"By the way," Sophia said, gazing at Warrick, "I heard that you play the piano. Have you ever gone to the Oasis Jazz Bar on karaoke night?"

"Uh, no. You?"

"Every Friday." She nodded, "I always sing a couple of songs before coming here."

"You sing?" Warrick asked, surprised and delighted, whereas Catherine looked like she was going to throw up.

I knew how she felt.

"Great!" Warrick was saying, "I'll be there next Friday, then. We'll jam, me and you-"

"Warrick?" Catherine called out sweetly.

"Uh?" he reluctantly turned his gaze away from Sophia. "Yes, Boss?"

"Did you check the information that Brass gave you?"

"Oh." he hesitated, "No. I was going to- Yeah. Well." he looked back longingly at Sophia, and then rose and left.

Catherine kept her eyes on Warrick until the man was out of sight.

And out of danger, I suppose.

But Catherine's job wasn't over yet; when she turned she realized that Nick was completely enthralled by Sophia, who was talking about Texas –and with a Texan accent! Oh, I can't believe this! She really is a chameleon! Nick was hanging on to her every word, until-

"Nick," Catherine said. "NICK!" she repeated.

"Uh?" he looked around.

"Nick," Catherine said, waving a hand to get his attention, "The case I assigned you won't solve itself, is it?"

"Uh." he blinked, "Yeah. I mean -no." he mumbled. He looked longingly at Sophia, "Well. See ya later."

"Sure, hon." She said amiably.

After Nick left, there was an uncomfortable silence that Sophia herself broke.

"So, Catherine. I heard you used to be a dancer."

"Yeah?" Catherine belligerently stuck out her jaw. "So?"

"I was just wondering-" Sophia shrugged, "Since you don't seem to have any trouble with your joints-"

Catherine looked bewildered.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Sophia said, "It's just that I get little pains and aches now and then, you know. It's been years since I danced, but I'm still paying the price. I was wondering if you might know of some liniment I could use-"

"You…You used to dance, too?"

"Oh, yeah." Sophia nodded, "I used to take it all off in New York."

Oh, come on! What's she going to reveal next? Wooden legs like Doctor Robbins'? A rebellious daughter like Brass'?

Surely, Catherine wouldn't believe this bullshit!

To my utter surprise, Catherine slowly took a seat next to Sophia.

"So, Catherine," Sophia said –and there was a gleam of triumph in her eyes as she asked, "Wanna trade horror stories about the old days?"

Nooooo, doooon't!

"Well…" Catherine hesitated, "Sure." she said.

Is Sophia taking control over the lab, or what? Oh, I'm so worried- and nauseous.

* * *

Ooooh, boy! I'm happy, happy, happy.

It seems that Sophia has gone too far. Ha!

I'd been worried. For a couple of days, she'd been acting like some sort of queen holding court, while the other CSI's sat around her, listening as she told them how hard it had been her life as Eckley's right hand.

Only Sara voiced her skepticism:

"You worked almost _four_ years with him," she said, "If he was so bad, why didn't you just requesta transfer?"

Yep, nice question, Sara.

Unfortunately, Warrick didn't give her a chance to answer.

"How have you been holding up?" he asked, "Everybody knows you should be in charge of the day shift. Many thought you would simply quit."

"I almost did," she said, "but _Gil_ asked me to stay, and after he took me to dinner I thought 'why not' ?"

Uh, oh.

Sara was pouring herself a cup of coffee and her expression of pain was only witnessed by me, but the others immediately glanced at each other, as if they knew that Sophia's words might hurt her.

Sophia was apparently unaware of this; she started telling them how Grissom had taken her to La Lumière, and then she started describing the food.

After a moment of silence, Greg reacted.

"That was nice of Grissom," he said, "But that's what he always does, Sophia." He said dismissively. He cleared his throat and added, "I mean, when _I_ threatened to quit, Grissom arranged for me to meet my favorite grunge group." He smiled smugly, "Poor Grissom; he was so worried that his DNA expert would quit, he even endured a couple of hours backstage..."

Uh? I didn't know that. Apparently, the others didn't know either. They looked at Greg with surprise written on their faces, until Nick smiled.

"Hum, that's true," Nick said. He paused, as if to put his thoughts in order, and then he added, "When I said _I_ wanted to go back to Texas two years ago, Grissom got me tickets for a basketball game."

"A basketball game?" Sophia asked with a dismissive smile.

"Yeah. Remember the John Cadwell farewell tour?"

"The one that got sold out in just four hours?" Warrick asked admiringly, "Grissom got you tickets?"

"Yeah. The poor guy must have spent _hundreds _for them." Nick smiled smugly.

I was listening to this and wondering why I had never heard anything about Nick wanting to leave or about Grissom getting tickets for him. Something weird was going on-

And then…

"Well, that's nothing," Catherine said abruptly.

"Oh?" Sophia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Don't tell me _you _tried to leave too."

"Yes." She nodded eagerly, "Yep." She added, "It wasn't _Gil_'s fault," she said, deliberately emphasizing Grissom's first name, maybe to remind Sophia that she had known Grissom for a longer time, "I, hum. I was having trouble with my ex-husband, Eddie-"

Oh, pu-leeze.

I wish I were able to roll my eyes. Catherine never misses a chance to talk about herself and her troubled life. I tuned her out for a moment.

"-so," she said in the end, "He sent me to Génétique Spa," She smiled smugly, "the poor guy was soooo worried about me leaving the lab, that he spent thousands-"

"Thousands?" asked Sophia.

"Oh, yeah. Génétique isn't cheap." Catherine said. "But he did it, to show me how important I was. But then he's _always_ doing things like that."

By the end of Catherine's tale, I began to understand. They were all lying. They simply didn't want Sophia to think she was _that _special. And she got the message. She turned to Warrick and sure enough, he had a tale to tell too.

"Years ago," he said, "I was having second thoughts about staying in Las Vegas -you know, because of my gambling problem. But Griss convinced me to face my problems instead of running away from them."

Finally, someone had told the truth.

But the truth wasn't enough, and he had to improvise.

"And… well…" he mumbled, as if he didn't know what else to say, "About that time Ray Charles came to town, and…"

Sophia looked skeptically at him.

"And Grissom got you tickets." She finished.

"Yep." He nodded.

Sophia smiled faintly. She looked at them, one by one; I wonder if she realized that, while she had held their attention and even their admiration… she had never become one of them. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Sara walked past them towards the door.

"What about you, Sara?" Sophia said, "Did you ever thought of leaving the lab?"

Sara stopped. She didn't turn.

"No." she said firmly.

And she left.

* * *

Heeeeey, Grissom! 

I waved madly at my human, and he smiled at me. He was bringing food and company, at last. I like this time of the day. He quietly and efficiently cleans my home and then he gets me a fresh ration of food. Then, after I've devoured the flies, he pats my head.

It's a relaxing moment for both of us and he always sighs as the tension drains away. Yep, there's no better therapy than gently patting the slightly prickly head of a spider.

We were contentedly sharing a quiet moment, when there was a noise behind his back.

"Hey."

Sara was standing by the door.

"Hey, Sara."

"How is your spider doing?" she asked as she entered the room.

"She's getting better. Apparently, she likes being here."

Sara smiled faintly.

"You do realize that people are getting nervous, right?"

"Yeah." He admitted, "I heard people aren't taking as many coffee breaks as before." He glanced at me, "I'm going to remove her in a day or two, but first I have to make a few changes in my office. I'm going to replacemy specimens with nicer objects. A plant or two, maybe-"

Uh, oh. The word 'plant' seemed to have an odd effect on her. It apparently reminded her of something unpleasant, because suddenly her smile turned bitter.

"By the way…" she said, picking up the coffee pot, "We had a very interesting conversation today."

"Who?" he asked distractedly. He was fiddling with the nanny cam and not looking at her. She poured a cup of coffee and took it to the table in the middle of the room. She sat.

"Well… Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Greg, Sophia, and me."

"Uh, huh?"

"We were talking about the job, and about how some of us have, at one time or another, threatened to leave."

He froze, but only for a couple of seconds.

He turned and faced her.

"It seems everybody had a tale to tell." She added.

"Really?" he asked noncommittally.

She looked at him, and it seemed to me that she was making an effort not to be emotional… but I could see a trace of sadness in her eyes. Maybe she knew, because she lowered her gaze to pick up her cup. By the time she had taken a sip of her coffee, she had recovered her cool.

"Yeah," she said, trying for a light tone, "They all mentioned how you convinced them to stay by doing things –nice things- for them. For instance, you got basketball tickets for Nick-"

Grissom frowned.

"And you sent Catherine to Génétique Spa-" she added.

"Gen-"

"And you helped Greg meet his favorite grunge group."

Grissom looked at her as if she had spoken Chinese. Actually, he might have understood Chinese better.

"Génétique?" he repeated, completely bewildered, "Grunge?"

"Yeah," she nodded, the bitter smile back on her lips, "You also took Warrick to see Ray Charles." She said. And then, she slowly added, "And, of course, you took Sophia to dine at La Lumière in order to convince her to stay."

If Grissom had tried to deny this, he would have failed miserably. Guilt was clearly written on his face; he looked like a kid trapped with his hands in the cookie jar.

For a moment, I thought that Sara was going to cry. The sadness in her eyes and the way her lips turned down at the corners were a sure sign.

And then suddenly, I realized that she wasn't sad; she was simply getting mad.

"I can't believe it, you know? I mean, you faced these people and you gave them things and you took them to places, and you did it all _personally_, whereas with me, you didn't even bother to talk. You sent me a plant- a plant that was delivered by a guy who smelled of marijuana and didn't even type my name correctly on the card, for God's sake! He wrote 'To: Sana Didle From: Brisom' Sana Didle! Can you believe it?"

_Uh, Sara?_ I waved like crazy, hoping she would look at me, but of course her eyes were on him. I was only trying to convey a message to her, _'Tone it down, girl. Grissom doesn't know how to handle hysterics.' _

"And the worse part," she added angrily, "the _pathetic_ part is that I was happy to get it!" she looked at him, "But that's nothing new, right? I've always been happy to get any little crumb of attention you throw my way-"

Grissom was clearly uncomfortable.

"Sara-" he started.

"I'm not saying that the orchid was cheap." She interrupted, "It wasn't. Actually, it's a very valuable, delicate orchid; in fact, she's so delicate that I hire a nanny for her whenever I can't go home to water her and feed her, and take her to the garden. Ms. Priss can't survive without at least two daily hours of sunlight, but if she gets more than two then she droops and practically goes into a comma until I revive her with a few drops of Evian water and vitamin pills that a friend of mine smuggles from Canada-" her voice trailed off when she noticed that Grissom was trying hard not to smile.

"You're laughing at me." She accused.

"Ms _Priss_?" he asked. "You gave _her_ a name?"

She smiled despite herself, but only briefly. She was deeply hurt and this time she wasn't going to back down.

"Damn, it, Grissom." She shook her head, and I could see that sadness was slowly replacing her anger, "I used to think I was special to you." she took a deep breath, "I accepted the fact that you couldn't accept my invitation to…" she gulped, "I understood that as a coworker, you'd never…" she stopped again. "But now I find out that you took _her_ to dinner...And not only that;" She added, "I've also found out that you did all those things for the guys and for Catherine-"

Ha! Like she cared about that! It was the dinner invitation that had needled her badly.

"Sara," he said gently, "I never sent Catherine to Génétique Spa."

"She said you did." She insisted.

"I don't know why she said that." He shrugged, "But we can ask her if you want. And I didn't get any tickets for Nick and Warrick." He shook his head in confusion, "None of them has even said anything about leaving the lab."

"They said they did." Sara frowned. "When Sophia saidshe tried to quit, each of them said they had tried, too." She looked up, "Do you think they were bluffing?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. "All I know is that they never told me anything."

Sara looked at him like she really wanted to believe this.

And then her eyes brightened up,

"Then… that means you never took Sophia to dinner-"

I looked at Grissom, fervently praying: _Don't say it, Grissom; don't say it, don't say it, don't_-

"Uh," he said, "actually, I did take her to La Lumière."

NOOOOOOO! No, you big _dummy_! This is NOT the time to tell the truth!

My God, why is my human so dense, sometimes?

Crushed, Sara leant back on her seat.

"Sara," He said, "it was just dinner."

She nodded, looking at him. Then she picked up her cup and took a sip. Her hand was trembling a little.

"Look…I couldn't let her go, for a number of reasons." He explained, "First, I feel guilty about her losing her promotion, and I don't want her to lose seniority by going to some other lab. Then there's the fact that Eckley expects me to fail as Supervisor and I don't want to give him that satisfaction. And… I need Sophia to take over during the last weekend of March. I'm taking a few days off."

Sara smiled bitterly.

"You're leaving _her_ in charge of the lab?"

I sighed.

I'll never understand why Grissom can't lie as easily as other guys can.

By Sara's expression, being rejected as a CSI was as bad as being rejected as a woman.

"I could have covered up for you." she said.

"Sara, I couldn't ask you. You have the weekend off, remember? It's the first you get since the year began-"

"I don't want the weekend off!" she retorted, "I didn't ask for it! What the hell am I supposed to do with all that free time?"

"You could travel," he suggested.

"I don't want to travel-"

"Well, it's too late to say no." he said, "I've already made plans."

She cautiously put the cup back on the table.

"Plans?"

Plans?

"Yeah." He said matter-of-factly. "I thought you'd like to spend a weekend in San Francisco." He smiled, "I got you a package. Airplane ticket, hotel room-"

She gaped.

"I have the brochures in my desk." He added.

"But…" she hesitated, "But why?"

"Why not?" he replied, smiling.

"I haven't threatened to quit-" she said. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know you don't want to quit, Sara," he nodded reassuringly; "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

They were silent for a moment.

"I do appreciate this, Grissom-" she said, staring at the cup that she was holding between her hands, "But if this is some sort of consolation prize-"

"No," he said softly. "No, it's not."

Grissom looked at her. I knew the expression on his face. He was trying to say something that was very difficult-

"Then, why…?" she prompted.

"I thought we could spend some time together," he said, "and talk."

She looked questioningly at him.

"Some time together?" she asked.

"I'm going to San Francisco, too." he explained, "I just thought…" he started.

"Yes?" she prompted gently.

"That's where we met, Sara." He explained, "I remember how happy we were there, and… After all the mistakes I've made during these past five years-" he paused, "I thought that if we went back, we'd have a chance…" he gulped, "to start over."

He looked at her, waiting for her reaction.

"And you're leaving the lab for a whole weekend?" she smiled faintly.

"Yes." He said.

"You're leaving the lab in the hands of a woman who might be Eckley's ally." She warned.

Grissom smiled, showing off blindingly white, slightly crooked teeth.

"If they are allies, then they are only two." He said, "We are more, aren't we?" he asked, "Think of what Catherine and the guys did. They banded together." She smiled, and Grissom felt more confident. "You're coming to San Francisco, then?"

Her smile was sweet.

"How could I say no?" She asked. And then she surprised me by adding, "But what about your spider?"

Aw, how sweet…

"Oh, it's ok," Grissom said carelessly, "Sophia can take care of her."

Whaaaaaat? Oh, no, no, no, no.

I started waving at Grissom again, demanding his attention.

"Why don't we take her to my place?" Sara said, "Ms Priss' nanny can take care of her at the same time."

"Really? She won't mind?"

"She loves exotic creatures," Sara said.

Aw…I've always liked this girl.

THE END


End file.
